


She Says

by Nanoochka



Series: Mating Games challenge fills [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Non-Penetrative Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanoochka/pseuds/Nanoochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not that Lydia has to choose, but if she did, she thinks she prefers this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Says

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Mating Games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com) challenge #3 (non-penetration).
> 
> Although obviously the age of consent differs from place to place, and Lydia would be considered a minor in the state of California, for the purposes of this story, which is set vaguely during S3b, she is 17 and Allison is 18.

Not that Lydia has to choose, but if she did, she thinks she prefers this: Allison’s smooth curves under her hands, the slide of soft skin against hers when she presses their bodies together and arches upward into a kiss.

Allison’s generally perfect, but especially like this, dress rucked up around her middle, naked below the waist, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Lydia would be an idiot not to want her, and that’s the last thing anyone could conceivably accuse her of being.

They’ve been kissing for what feels like hours, ever since Lydia bluntly announced, “I’m bored of studying,” and Allison glanced at her with that look that let her know her meaning hadn’t gone misunderstood.

She’s a slight weight holding Lydia down on the bed, and Lydia trails her fingers up the sides of her hips and then back down again, brushing against the swell of her bottom. Allison pushes back into the touch, shivering a little. She sometimes gets bashful, lets her hair fall forward to obscure her face as though she doesn’t want Lydia to see her, but there’s no doubting the wordless request for more in the way she trails her lips down Lydia’s neck and pants against her throat, clenches her fingers in Lydia’s hair.

Lydia wants to taste her so badly that her jaw aches with it. If Allison were Jackson or Aidan, she thinks, she wouldn’t even have to ask, but she’s not, and Lydia’s all the more grateful for it.

“Come up here,” she murmurs, purposely keeping the question out of her voice, and when Allison looks at her uncertainly, Lydia pats her hip and tugs on her arm to get her to move. She stops when she’s straddling Lydia’s waist, and that’s pretty, the dark, fine hair of her mound stark against the creamy skin of Lydia’s abdomen, but it’s not what Lydia wants.

“More,” she says, and pulls at her arm again. Allison understands then, knee-walking herself up Lydia’s body until her thighs are on either side of Lydia’s face, just where she wants her.

“Oh my God,” Allison says, faintly, and Lydia smiles indulgently, kisses the insides of her thighs to wind her up more.

Her voice goes several octaves higher when Lydia nips and sucks her way inward, working her way closer until she can brush her lips against Allison’s outer labia. The sound just makes Lydia bolder, and she tugs Allison’s hips down firmly so she’s properly sitting on her face, giving her the perfect angle to dart her tongue out to taste her, flicking once against her clit and making Allison stiffen over her with a small keening noise.

Lydia’s own T-shirt sticks to her lower back as she goes to work, sliding her lips through that hot slickness, running her tongue over and around Allison’s clit, then down lower to push ever so slightly into her slit when Allison rocks her pelvis forward encouragingly. She can feel the uncomfortable clamminess of her shorts against her crotch as her own cunt clenches and her clit throbs in sympathy. Rather than rub one out, though, she distracts her fingers by sliding them up Allison’s torso, cupping her little breasts and pinching her nipples through the lace of her bra.

"Oh God," Allison says again, hips working more intently now, tight, little circles that keep contact between Lydia’s mouth and where she wants it most. “God, Lydia, oh my God.”

Lydia can’t answer with Allison riding her face, but she concentrates on licking her all over, alternating between quick circles of her tongue and closing her lips around the bud of Allison’s clit to suck forcefully, just the way Allison likes. She’s blazing hot and leaving smears of perfect wetness all over Lydia’s cheeks and chin, but Lydia doesn’t stop sucking and licking and sucking until she feels Allison go shock-still and a sharp cry wrenches free of her throat. Then she shudders and a fresh gush of fluid surges out of her.

Allison gasps and slumps forward, catching herself against the mattress at the last second. Her thighs are still twitching with aftershocks. Lydia laughs, pleased, and wipes her mouth against her forearm. She helps Allison wriggle her way back down until they’re close enough to face level so she can kiss Allison’s still-slack mouth.

Lydia thinks she likes Allison’s postcoital kisses most of all, the way her mouth clings lazily, breath uneven and lips uncoordinated. But just, you know, if she had to choose.


End file.
